La France prospérera?

I don’t know why we’re bothering, but here we are. Again.

And Cat Daddy has done a massive U-turn: not only did he agree to letting Louis Catorze make a prediction for the France v Switzerland match, but he took responsibility for researching an appropriate representative for the Swiss plate. The result of his efforts is, erm, a Swiss mountain dog.


This time Le Roi bouffed both Dreamies, but curiously lifted the Swiss one away from the plate first before eating it off the floor (bottom left photo). What could this mean, Mesdames et Messieurs?

My view: a French win (based on Catorze’s form for the last match, i.e. a result that is not in any way indicative of what takes place on the predicting plates).

Cat Daddy’s view, expressed after I asked him for the 4th or 5th time whilst he was engrossed in a TV debate about the EU referendum: “Oh, for God’s sake, I don’t bloody know. It probably means he was hungry.”

On verra …

Le Roi se trompe: vive Le Roi!


Oh, Louis Catorze: you are a sweet cat, but a rubbish psychic.

Luckily he doesn’t know that he’s rubbish. He thinks he’s doing great. After the final whistle of France v Albania, he came screaming into the room, tail up, as if to say, “See? Wasn’t I just MAGNIFIQUE?” Erm, not really. But I cuddled him anyway and he purred, wafted sweet lime into my face and then trotted out, none the wiser.

So, France v Switzerland on Sunday: is there any point in a last-ditch attempt at that one? Cat Daddy says no. In fact, his very words were: “He’s shit. It’s beyond humiliating now. Please stop.”

Bienvenue à mon château!

I mentioned in the “About Le Roi et moi” section of this blog that he is more popular than we are, and I wasn’t kidding: this weekend a visitor from Switzerland is coming all the way to Le Château just to see him. This fabulous lady, despite living in another country, has been charmed by my boy’s ridiculous antics and is one of his greatest and most valued supporters; “an audience with the Sun King” is what was requested, although what she will actually get is anyone’s guess.

“The Sun King?” Cat Daddy said, incredulous. “SUN KING? Your poor friend is going to be so disappointed. He’s just a scraggy, thick, black runt who does nothing.” THAT’S THE IRONY OF IT. It would be far too predictable to expect the Sun King to be a big, strong, imposing Maine Coon; the appeal of Le Roi lies in the juxtaposition of the royal title with his unassuming and understated appearance. And has anyone noticed that not only are mob bosses and underworld kingpins always unassuming and understated, but they have the big, strong, imposing guys working for THEM?

Anyway, Le Roi awaits his guest with delight (see below for his delighted face). A bientôt!